Promise Me
by The Atomic Cafe
Summary: Set after Apologies and Excuses. Claire makes Stella promise something.


**Promise Me**

**By Dimgwrthien**

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: NY or affiliates.

The sun lulls around the sky like a baby in a cradle. It beams down just enough light to start drying up the rain, but not enough to make the grey clouds leave the tops of the buildings. Stella stares straight up, her neck twisted strangely, as she tried to decipher how much rain would come the next night.

Claire sits with Stella outside of one of the restaurants, picking the ham and pineapple off of her pizza and eating it slowly. She watches Stella instead of the clouds.

"It's too dark to be out here," Stella says, finally looking at Claire. Claire wipes her fingers on her stained napkin.

"It's not raining yet. If it does, we can always run back inside." Claire gives Stella a small smile as she folds her pizza and takes a large bite. "Besides, I've always liked the run."

Stella raises her eyebrow, but Claire doesn't seem to notice. In fact, Claire doesn't seem to notice anything happening around her. When she sets her pizza slice down, it's close to being off of the plate. "What's wrong?" Stella asks.

Claire looks a bit too pale, too, except for that blush that's been on her cheeks since the night before. Her green eyes travel onto Stella, staring her down. "I had a dream last night. Not one of those drunk dreams, but a real one."

Stella waits for more. She knows that Claire can't stand being pressured under questions, and she already looks worried.

"It didn't make too much sense, but I know that it meant something. I just dreamed that… well, something bad happened. Like a car accident. I think that was it. And I died."

Almost reaching out for Claire's hand to comfort her, Stella realizes that it's not her dying in a car accident that scares her. Claire had been through enough near-death experiences because of Mac's job that death didn't seem to scare Claire anymore. Even when Mac told her about when they wrote up their new wills the year before, Claire didn't seem to flinch at all.

"And after I died… Mac was left alone. I've never trusted him on his own." It sounds like one of Claire's usual jokes to Stella, but she doesn't smile. Her face is tight, and a small line appears between her eyebrows. Stella's only seen it so pronounced once - several hours after Mac had found a killer in the building and gotten caught by the man. Claire was the one who had to save Mac, killing the man. She walked over to Stella's apartment, dazed and tired and confused and, most of all, scared. Then she fell into a chair, refusing to let go of Stella until the hospital called her back about how Mac was doing.

The line is there again, and her lips are pressed tightly together. "I can't imagine leaving Mac. I can't imagine being _left_ by Mac. I've known him since I was practically a kid. I had only known him a year when he went out to Beirut, and it almost broke me to see the news one day and realize that my husband could be dead. Something in me died right then, right when the announcer mentioned Beirut and a bomb. I never got a letter saying he died, but it took so long to get those letters out that I couldn't… I couldn't tell what happened. I had to wait months until I had to get him at the airport. And there he was. And I felt so much better. I had my Mac, and even though he was a little broken, a little worse for the wear, I had my Mac."

Stella can't quite understand what Claire is trying to describe. There's no one that she's known that long and fallen in love with. She's never married, only dated a handful of men who never lasted for too long. When she thinks about it for a second, she realizes that she hasn't even been out of the orphanage as long as the two have known each other. They would have met close to her fifteenth birthday. Considering how long it was, Stella wonders what it would be like to have to watch that familiar of a person die.

"I - I don't usually believe in dreams," Claire tells her, looking down at the napkin she's tearing in her hands, "but they make me think. _What if_ they were true? What if we had some basis in them? Haven't you ever had one of those dreams that comes true?"

Stella nods, though she doesn't think back enough to see if this is true.

"If anything happened…" Claire glances up at Stella and breathes a bit harshly. "If anything happens, I want _you_ to take care of Mac, alright?"

"Claire, don't say that." Stella stares at her. "Don't you dare say anything like that. Nothing's going to happen." Their eyes meet, and Stella glares down into the green irises with their brown and gold flecks. Claire stares right back.

However, Claire seems to win the silent fight. "Stella, I want you to just promise me. Don't argue with me, don't reason against me, and don't try to say you can't or aren't allowed to, Stella." She takes Stella's hand in her own, turning it a tiny bit so that the palm is half on the table and half in her own. "Just promise me."

Stella considers the small touch and the tone that Claire uses. She doesn't know how much further she can go with touch and trust after the night before, but she tries to concentrate. She finally looks at Claire's hand as a friend's touch, and whispers, "You're nuts."

The line in Claire's forehead seems to disappear, and her lips loosen up a bit before she smiles. She nods, sounding almost as though she's in tears of relief. "Yeah, I am," she tells Stella. "I'm just being sappy. I'm sorry, Stella."

Stella smiles back, glad that Claire doesn't look so tense anymore, even though there's a tear threatening to fall. "But, Claire, if there's anything that's worrying you -"

"Mac isn't the same when he's alone," Claire tells her quickly and suddenly, as though she has been waiting for Stella to say it. "Stella, I need you to make this promise to me." Claire blinks, keeping her eyes closed for a moment before staring at Stella again. "If anything were to happen to me, you would be with him. You're a strong woman, Stella. You're stronger than me - that's why I could never handle any type of police work. I know that you'll fight Mac whenever he does something stupid, and you'll fight for him when he needs it. And I know that you'll love him."

Biting her lip, Stella looks away for just a second, a small sign of weakness, but she stares at Claire's hand against her own, and it spurs her to her answer. "Alright, Claire."

"I need to hear it," Claire tells her.

"I promise." Stella tightens her hold as though she's afraid something will break when she promises, and she really fears it. "I promise."

"And you have to admit, it was hot last night." Stella sees that Claire is grinning as she says it. "I never knew that Mac Taylor of all people could do that kind of thing. And watching how he acted with you compared to me? There's a bit more to that man than I thought when I married him."

Stella feels the blush rise to her cheeks again, and she grins back. "I never thought I'd even be seeing that sort of thing, much less talking about it."

"Some things are supposed to be forgotten, I guess." Claire wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, still smiling. "It just goes to prove that Mac Taylor does have enough room in his heart for more than his country and his work. He can keep two women entertained at once. Takes talent."

Stella laughs this time, glad to get away from the darker side of their conversation. It seemed nice to hide up the awful truths with joking.

"And you know what?" Claire asks, leaving a pause for Stella to raise her eyebrows. "Last night made me realize that I can't control Mac at all. He's not mine to love. He's not yours to love. He's _ours_. Both of us have loved you since the second we met you - you're such a sweet girl." Claire pauses, starting to laugh again, and Stella finds the sound pleasing. "I can't call you a sweet girl, can I? That's just wrong! But - the point is… I know how he's looked at you since you started working together. It's not something wrong… but he admires you. Just hearing how he talks about you makes me like you more. It's hard to find someone that Mac uses that tone with." Claire puts on a deeper voice, obviously imitating Mac, but it has an earnest side to it, almost child-like in it reverence. "'Stella's an amazing woman. You should see how well she works, and I can pair her off with anyone, and she'll manage to prove to me she's even more amazing every day.'"

Stella's eyes widen, and her mind tries to wrap around the idea of Mac saying that type of thing around her when the most he had ever done was tell her, straight out and simple, 'Good job.'

Claire glances up at the sky, neck bending much like Stella's had, her eyes looking over the tops of the grey buildings. A few drops of rain fell.

"I think it's time to take cover." Claire picks up her own pizza as Stella grabs hers, and the two start to move to the street. Claire pauses and throws one arm around Stella, bringing her into a hug. "You're promising me, right?"

"I promise," Stella repeats, and she feels secure in her own word, but uncomfortable for the first time about the future.

Then came the Towers and everything that happened after.

Stella sits with Mac at his apartment, watching him. It's only been a day after, and he's spending half of his time planning the funeral and the other half dealing as only Mac Taylor can deal.

Finally understanding what Claire meant when she made Stella promise, Stella watches Mac crumble from within, every part of him cracking to its barest foundations until it reaches the surface, were only a crack shows through. There's too much new paint, too much of a mask, for Stella to safely ask him how he's coping, but he _looks_ like a wreck.

He's bowed over several papers, as he has been since she's entered.

Stella takes the pen out of his hand, forcing him to look at her with only a slight tilt of his head. He seems too afraid to look, to let his eyes do any speaking. Stella makes the first move and pulls at his shoulders, forcing him against her chest, and he does not resist.

"Mac," she whispers into his ear, closing her eyes. "I want you to promise me you won't break, alright? And I want you to promise me you'll stay here with me and tell me that you haven't lost yourself. Alright?"

He doesn't answer, and Stella can only feel the rise and fall of his chest against her.


End file.
